A Knights Passion
by Shazza72
Summary: "The Queen has forgiven you. You are allowed to forgive yourself!" Someone finally convinces Ser Jorah Mormont that he is worthy of being loved. OC fluff with Jorah!
1. Chapter 1

"Come." Ser Jorah Mormont called in response to the knock on his door.

The heavy wooden door creaked open just enough to admit the visitor. Jorah pulled a clean shirt from the cabinet near his bed and turned to see who it was that would be calling on him in his private quarters.

"My Lady." He gave a cordial bow, when he recognised his visitor.

"Ser Jorah I wanted to make sure your wound had been attended to." Lady Allyse Redwyne told him.

"It has." Jorah told her bluntly.

She smiled at his response, and rather than be perturbed by his gruffness, she closed the door behind her. She crossed the room to him, eyeing the bandage around his arm.

"It is not too bad I hope?" She asked with a mixture of concern and hope.

"It required stitching, but the blade was not poisoned. It will leave a scar but that is all." Jorah wasn't sure why Lady Allyse was calling on him. She was a difficult one to figure out.

Danerys had taken an immediate liking to her when she presented herself at Court as the last living member of House Redwyne, but Jorah wasn't so trusting. Especially of those claiming to be Targaryen supporters. House Redwyne had been a staunch Targaryen supporter in the past but a lot of time had passed since Robert's rebellion. It had taken many months for him to begin to believe her motives were honest and to relax when she was in the Queens company. At least she had been one of the few members of court to show him any respect.

"What is a knight without a few scars?" She smiled again.

"Some would say that a knight who bore the scars of battle was not very proficient." Jorah pointed out.

"Yet you have many scars and Tyrion Lannister tells me that you are more than proficient in battle." She pointed out, looking him up and down. "I certainly feel safer with you around."

Jorah realised then that she was referring to the marks left by the slavers whip on his back and chest. He quickly unfolded the shirt he was holding and went to pull it over his head.

"Please don't." Allyse told him, lightly catching the hand of his injured arm.

"I am not properly dressed to receive a lady." Jorah explained, embarrassed. It was bad enough that everyone could see the brand on his face but not many had ever seen the marks the slavers had left him.

"That may be, but I would not have the hero of the hour be made to feel uncomfortable by my visit."

"Hardly a hero." Jorah grumbled.

"Ser if you had not killed that man, he would have taken my life." She pointed out.

"I am sworn to protect the Queen." He said a little less gruffly.

"Well I am grateful to you for saving my life, even if it is not part of your duties." She smiled.

When the man had pulled the knife and headed for the Queen, Daario Naharis had shielded her, leaving Allyse alone in the path of the madman. Jorah had reacted within seconds and run the attacker through, but the man had slashed at him at he fell, his knife skidding off Jorah's vambrace and slicing into his arm.

"I did not mean.." Jorah stammered. He did not want her to think he would not have saved her as well. "I only meant..."

"I know what you meant Ser." She smiled and kept a hold of his arm. "I just wanted to tell you I appreciate your dedication, even if others take it for granted. She gently stroked his scared and calloused hand.

"The Queen..." Jorah began but she cut him off again.

"Is being comforted by her sell sword." She spat. She looked him in the eye, daring him to defend Danerys again. He had not realised before that she did not swoon over Dany's paramour like the other ladies in the Keep.

Jorah swallowed and meet her gaze. "Is that what you want of me?" His heart started to beat faster, the skin of his hand tingling where she held it.

"Oh no good Ser." The glorious smile she gave him was all dimples and sparkling eyes. "I came to offer you comfort." She let go of his hand and reached up to run the back of her fingers over the whiskers on his unscarred cheek.

"Y-you don't have to do that." He protested weakly.

"I know." She whispered, stretching up on tip-toes, leaning in closer to him. She pressed her lips to his and Jorah closed his eyes and revelled in the sensation. It had been a very long time since a woman had kissed him. Especially a beautiful woman like Lady Allyse. She was not fair like Danerys, but auburn haired with soft brown eyes framed by long lashes. And her smile sang of sunshine and happiness. Jorah had noticed her looking at him before, but he had thought she stared at the brand on his face.

She broke off the kiss and looked up at him. His blue eyes questioning her motives silently. She stroked his branded cheek. Her touch was so tender. Jorah blinked slowly, breathing deeply, it was the same sign of affection Danerys used to use with him. He swallowed hard as her fingers lightly traced the scar, his instinct was to pull away but he remained still.

Her eyes met his and she smiled again. When he did not pull away from her, Allyse moved her hand to the nape of his neck, rubbing the curling ends of his hair between her fingers, feeling its texture. Moments passed before Jorah reached out and wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him.

"Am I a game to you?" He growled angrily. He could not believe that a woman would voluntarily approach him like this.

"No!" When Jorah had scooped her towards him, he had lifted up just enough for her to be off-balance. She gripped the back of his neck and let go of his hand in preference for a tight grip on his elbow .

"Then what are you doing here?" He pressed, giving her a little shake.

"I have told you already." She refused to break eye contact with him, even though his glare was fierce.

"I do not need your pity." He wanted to push her away but she had a tight grip on him, locking them together. If he had wanted to push his point he could have been rougher, but he didn't want to hurt her.

"I don't pity you Jorah." She told him through gritted teeth. Why couldn't he just let his guard down for a moment?

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Are you so disheartened by the world that you could not believe a woman would find you attractive?" She sounded angry and disappointed.

"This! This is attractive?" He said a touch too loudly as turned his head so she could not avoid seeing his branded cheek.

"No it is not." She admitted. "But I do not even see it now when I look at you." She told him gently. "I only see the man who wears it."

Jorah shook his head in disbelief at her comment, but he released her enough for her to regain her balance.

She let go of his elbow and lifted her hand to his good cheek.

"You do not have to be alone because Danerys prefers company of another man."

He glared at her for a moment before his face softened slightly. She had hit the nail on the head. Jorah was lonely and while he knew Danerys would never accept his love, he had not been able to move on. He believed no woman would ever want a man branded as a slave.

"Whatever you have done is in the past. The Queen has forgiven you. You are allowed to forgive yourself!" She told him. "I know a good heart beats inside of you." She let go of his neck and dropped her hand to his bare chest, scratching lightly at the brassy hair there.

Jorah dropped his head, unable to meet her gaze any longer. He looked at the small hand covering his heart. He wondered if she could feel it hammering under her hand. He still had his arm around her waist and he was acutely aware of how close they were standing. Her warmth was almost intoxicating. Jorah knew he had two choices. Send her on her way or let his guard down for once.

She watched the indecision play across his face.

"Stop torturing yourself Jorah. You deserve to be loved for who you are." She whispered and pulled herself hard against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jorah buried his face in her neck and squeezed his eyes shut against the tears welling in them.


	2. Chapter 2

Queen Danerys could not help but notice the small smile Lady Allyse gave Ser Jorah, nor the nervous one he gave in return. Could it be that her gruff bear was finally beginning to accept that the Lady meant her no harm? If he was it would be a relief! Jorah was still too protective of her.

Lady Allyse had come to Kings Landing to swear the fealty of House Redwyne to Danerys during the battle for the Iron Throne. At first Danerys was wary of her as well, her grandfather had sat on the Tommen's Inner Council and commanded the fleet that had tried to defend Kings Landing against her and her dragons. After her grandfather and many members of the family had been killed in the battle, Allyse had sworn her House to Danerys. She explained that not all of her family approved of her grandfather committing their House to the Usurper's son.

Allyse had offered all of the resources of her House to Danerys although admitting, in a rather tongue-in-cheek fashion, that after the battle and the dragons had decimated their fleet, she had little to offer than a rather large supply of wine and a few ships, some of which hadn't been burnt to the water-line.

In the end the old family ties and her own loneliness had convinced her to invite Lady Allyse to remain in the Red Keep. Of course Jorah had not approved! The Redwyne's had supplied the navy that had nearly thwarted their conquest of Westeros, but Dany had waved off his concerns, and the two had quickly become close friends.

Many of those on her Queens Council had voiced opinions of their own about Ser Jorah and the appropriateness of his remaining as the head of her army, but she would not listen to their concerns either. She was convinced of his loyalty, even if she did not accept his advice as quickly as she had done before. Perhaps it was her insistence that he sit on her Council that upset them? Even so it pained her to see the lack of respect many of them showed Jorah. To them he was a nothing, the former Lord of a lowly house, who had fled Westerosi justice.

She watched her two friends that evening during a banquet to welcome a delegation from Dorne. Neither spoke to the other or even made eye contact again, although she thought she caught Allyse looking in Jorah's direction more than once. She wondered what her friend was thinking. Allyse had a playful nature and Dany often did not know when she was being serious or jesting.

Tyrion Lannister, her Hand, had told her that there were many ladies at court who thought Ser Jorah was a conquest to be made. That surprised Danerys because she had never seen Jorah as a potential lover, only as her dear friend. Tyrion explained that the demon brand that Jorah was so ashamed off, was seen as exotic and exciting to the Westerosi ladies, as were tales of his adventures in Essos.

Since Tyrion had pointed it out to her, she had watched how the ladies whispered about Jorah whenever he was around. She was determined to make sure they were not making fun of her Knight. Danerys was soon distracted from her ponderings by her guests. Protecting Ser Jorah's honour would have to wait.

Later that evening, Jorah was sitting at his desk reading a dispatch that had arrived earlier in the day. There seemed to be a never ending stream of messages from the garrisons they had located throughout the Kingdom. It had been Tyrion's idea to disperse the Unsullied, after all they could not house and feed the remaining 4,000 warriors in Kings Landing. Many had died in the fight for the throne, and others had chosen to return to Essos. Garrisoning them away from Kings Landing helped disperse the drain on resources and helped maintain the peace they had all fought so hard for.

He laid aside the parchment and thought back to the activities of the evening. The Dornish ambassador has been forward enough to suggest that the Queen consider taking the Dornish Prince for her husband. Dany had smiled politely and told him she would like to discuss it with him further at another time. Jorah was sure he saw Daario Naharis' hand move to his arakh, before he fixed the ambassador with a glare.

Lady Allyse had told Jorah that she expected their Queen would have to remarry eventually. That marriage would have to be carefully considered by her council, and would only be entered into when it was certain that the union would solidify her reign. Jorah knew Danerys would do whatever she had to, to ensure peace, regardless of her paramour's feelings on the matter. As much as he did not like Daario, he could at least feel sorry for him. When Dany did marry, her new husband would most likely insist that the sell sword be sent from her side.

Jorah was just about to get ready for bed when there was a knock his door. He smiled, hoping the visitor would be a certain Lady.

"Come." He called out.

A page opened the door and stepped inside. Jorah's smile disappeared, as the boy bowed to him.

"What is it?" Jorah prompted.

"Ser the Queen asks for you. She is in her private chambers."

"Thank you." Jorah dismissed the page and stood up. He buckled on his sword and headed out to find out what his Queen required of him.

When he returned to his quarters it was very late, close to midnight. Jorah was tired and a little disappointed because he had hoped that the person who had knocked on his door earlier that evening was Lady Allyse. He had begun to look forward to their late night chats. For the last two months they had met nearly every night. It wasn't that they were sneaking around, it was just that once the rest of Keep had retired for the night they could talk without interruption and attracting gossip.

What had started out with a kiss had become a friendship. They talked about their families, and Jorah told her about his adventures in Essos before and after he met Danerys. It was Allyse who had told him that Lynesse had did from the Pale Mare in Lys, along with her merchant prince. Before Danerys took the kingdom, the Hightower's, Tyrrell's and Redwyne families had been close and the news had come from Leyton Hightower himself before he too had died in the battle. Jorah found that he wasn't even sad for her passing. He had long stopped thinking about his former wife.

Allyse was correct that he had been lonely. He had put all of his energy into Danerys and she had made it very clear that while she valued him as a friend, Daario was the man she loved. Of course, who could blame her? Daario was at least ten years younger than Jorah, flashy and handsome. How could he possibly compete with that? He was well over 40, balding and then there was the slavers brand. Lady Allyse may pretend to not see the demons mask burnt into his face, but he was sure Danerys did and it reminded her every day of his betrayal.

Jorah unbuckled his belt and set his sword down on the desk. He crossed to his big featherbed and laid across it. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes. It seemed like decades ago when he was riding across the Dothraki Sea with a scared young princess and her obnoxious brother. The fight to put her on the Iron Throne had been long and hard, but they had done it and the realm was a peace again. The Red Keep was safe enough, apart from the occasional problem with hard-core Baratheon supporters. Now all they had to do was keep the kingdom from flying apart.

He was so pre-occupied by his thoughts that he did not realise anyone else was in his chamber until they climbed onto his bed and knelt above him.

"I hope you aren't intending to sleep with your boots on!" She whispered as she kissed his cheek.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, trying to hide a smile. He was pleased to see her, even if he was taken aback by her forwardness. She had not kissed him since that first night nor had she shown any indication of doing so again.

"I wanted to see you." She smiled

"You saw me at the banquet." He pointed out.

"I know." She ran her fingers slowly through the whiskers on his unmarked cheek. "You looked very handsome in your new clothes." Danerys had given Jorah a gift of a tunic with the emblem of House Mormont embroidered on it and matching cloak.

"You?" He opened one eye and looked at her suspiciously.

"I might have mentioned it." She smiled. She had suggested to the Queen that the Commander of the her army should look more like a Lord and less like a soldier, at least for official events.

With delicate finger she traced the black bear on his chest.

"What are you after?" He asked, his voice husky and low.

"Can't you guess?" She leant down and whispered in his ear, before sucking on his earlobe.

Jorah moaned. As much as he wanted it, it would not be proper. "We can't." He told her reluctantly.

"I am not a maiden Jorah, I was married when I was younger." She explained. "I know what I am asking. What I want." She swirled her fingers through the hair behind his ear.

"There are a lot of men in the Keep, surely you could find someone better." He told her reluctantly, even though his resistance was beginning to wane. "Who can give you what you want."

"They can't. They are not you!" She told him, kissing his branded cheek.

"And what happens if…" He protested, with a little shiver.

"You put a babe in my belly?" She finished for him.

Jorah nodded. As much as he wanted to give in to her, he had no wish to sire a bastard child.

"Then you would have to give me your lovely new cloak, so our child would bear your name."

"You would marry a man you hardly know and raise his child?" He frowned.

"I would marry you." Allyse laid on the bed beside him. Jorah immediately missed the contact, until she placed her hand on the front of his trousers. She squeezed gently, smiling at the moan of pleasure he gave.

"We shouldn't." He told her, but did not move to stop her ministrations.

"If it will silence you I will marry you in the morning, my sweet Knight." She leant over and kissed him on the lips.

Jorah lift his head and looked at her. He had assumed that her flirty banter was just that. That although they had become friends, that she was just another lady at court who thought the old knight with the scary branded face was ripe for proposition.

"Don't!" He didn't want to play this game any longer, it was becoming too painful.

"I would marry you Jorah. I would love you and our children, if you would let me." There was no hint of teasing in her voice anymore.

"I am an old man Allyse, why would you want to tie yourself to me? To have everyone know you were wed to a former slave and exile." He told her. "I have no lands, no gold, nothing."

"Why are you so convinced that no-one should love you?" She demanded. "I have all that I need, I have lands and gold enough for us both."

They lay in silence for a while, until Allyse began working on him again.

"Please stop!" He groaned, as she tugged up his shirt, running her hand over his flat stomach.

"No." She whispered as she started to push her hand under the band of his trousers and kissed his jaw. "I don't want to wait until the morning."

Jorah grabbed her hand and stood up. She watched him in surprise.

"I would do this right." He told her. "Come." He tugged gently on her hand.

"But it is near midnight." She pointed out, when she realised what he was planning.

"Then the septon shouldn't be busy." He smiled and scooped her up off the bed. She laughed and hugged his neck.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked.

"I'm not scared of the septon." He grinned.

"That's not what I meant!" She admonished. "Do you think you can be happy with me?"

Jorah nodded, his throat suddenly tight with emotion.

"Finally you admit it!" She kissed his neck with a happy laugh.

The septon wasn't happy to be dragged from his bed in the middle of the night, but he performed his duties efficiently. Jorah draped his forest green cloak about Allyse's shoulders and they shared a chaste kiss after they recited the words to confirm their union.

They hurried back to Jorah's chambers, and as soon as the door closed behind them, she threw her arms around his neck.

"I do love you Jorah." She told him before he silenced her with a kiss. He felt her smile against his lips before she kissed him in return. He was reluctant to say the words himself. Too many times in the past he had uttered those three little words and had been tortured by them later.

He wasn't even sure he knew what love really was. He had married before out of duty, for lust and now, had he married Allyse for friendship and comfort? Or was it something more? He had told her everything there was to tell about himself. About his father, about spying on Danerys, even about Lynesse. Yet, even the scars on his face and body did not seem to turn her away. Perhaps he had finally found someone who cared for him regardless of his past.

As his wife of less than two hours slept in his arms, Jorah said a rare prayer. He prayed that he would make Allyse happy, that he could be the husband she wanted him to be. He still wasn't sure if they had done the right thing. Jorah realised as he listened to her steady breathing that he felt something he had not felt in nearly two decades. He was truly content.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jorah woke up, he was alone. He looked around the room for any sign that he had not dreamt the activities of the previous evening, but there were none. He sat up to better assess the situation. His sword still lay on his desk and his new cloak and tunic were hung over the back of his chair.

He scrubbed a hand over his stubbled face and got out of bed. He picked up his trousers from the floor and pulled them on, then his boots. His room was as it had been when he returned from meeting with Danerys last night, he was alone and there was no sign that anyone else had been there.

Jorah wasn't sure what to think. The dream had felt so real. Was it just a manifestation caused by an overtired mind? He hardly slept these days, and usually when he did, memories of his past betrayal and enslavement filled his dreams. A sense of deep disappointment filled him. Had he also dreamt his friendship with Lady Allyse?

It must have been a dream, otherwise she would still be there with him. Anyway, Jorah had known the first day she had visited him, that she did not want him as she had said. Her flirtatious behaviour was not uncommon. It was not desire for him as a man that had emboldened her enough to approach him, but the gratitude of him having saved her life.

Jorah knew without a doubt that no woman would want a man with a demons brand burnt into his traitorous face. It was bad enough he had to suffer the whispers of the ladies at court and to deal with their sometimes outrageous flirting. Tyrion had pointed out that the brand made him somehow more attractive to them because it marked him as "dangerous". Apparently ladies liked "dangerous" men, or so Tyrion told him. In truth it made him sick to his stomach to see how they behaved, and not all of them were maidens, some of them were married.

With these depressing thoughts swirling through his head, Jorah pulled on a shirt and headed for the baths. Maybe the hot water would clear his mind, even if it never seemed to be able to dissolve away the scars the slavers had left him, or the feeling that he was somehow still covered in the filth from the hull of the slavers ship.

As usual Jorah had a long day ahead of him again. It was still dark outside and he knew that it was still some time before dawn. A young page would deliver his breakfast as the sun came up and then he would head out into the Keep to see how the repairs to its walls and docks were going. After a quick tour of the barracks he would head back to the Keep for another Council meeting, where its participants would argue for hours over resources and other paltry rubbish that seemed more about soothing egos than anything else. Sometimes it seemed Varys, Tyrion, old Ser Barristan and himself were the only ones who had any grip on the reality of running a Kingdom.

Danerys' new Council was made up of the usual members, the Masters of Coin, Secrets, and Law etc, the Queens Hand, but Dany had added new members, some, like Jorah and Ser Barristan because she valued their advice and others for purely political reasons. Daario Naharis was not a member of the Council, so at least Jorah didn't have to look at his smug face, standing behind the Queen every day.

As he walked back to his chambers, he sighed. He was tired and part of him was bitterly disappointed that yet again his life, whether in dream or reality, had not turned out the way he wanted. If it had, he would still be Lord of Bear Island, his first wife would have lived and they would have been surrounded by their children. More importantly he would not have disgraced himself time and time again, and disappointed his father.

As he reached for the handle, the door swung open and a young man bowed deeply to him.

"My Lord." He said.

"Who are you?" Jorah asked, looking him up and down.

"My name is Podrick. I'm your squire." The dark haired youth explained.

"I don't recall having a squire." Jorah told him. He knew who Podrick Payne was. He had been Tyrion's squire before he fled to Essos with Varys, and Jorah had seen the boy with Tyrion lately around the Keep.

"My Lord Tyrion asked the Queen to let me serve you both." Podrick stammered and began fidgeting with his tunic.

"And why do you think they believe I would need a squire?"

"Lord Tyrion says that the Queens Knight should have a squire and ..." Pod paused.

"And what?" Jorah should have known Tyrion was up to something.

"I, er, he says I'm hopeless with a sword and his arms aren't long enough to teach me how!" His cheeks flushing red with embarrassment at his lack of skill.

"I see." Jorah nodded. "And how do you intend to serve us both?"

"Well Lord Tyrion is not an early riser and ..." He shrugged uncomfortably, not wanting to say that anyone could pour wine.

"Podrick, I don't need a squire." Seeing the look of disappointment of the young man's face, he continued. "But, you can bring me breakfast at dawn and we will train until mid morning, when you will can return to Tyrion and attend to his needs."

Jorah was amused by how the boys face lit up. He might have wanted to learn to use a sword, but he had probably not desire to leave the relatively plush job as Tyrion's squire. Most squires worked from dawn to midnight, pampering to some very unpleasant types and were treated very poorly by the men they served. He doubted Tyrion gave young Podrick too much to complain about.

"Thank you my Lord." Pod bowed to him again. "I have brought your breakfast."

"I am not Lord, just call me Ser." Jorah told him and headed for his desk where an opulent spread had been laid out for him. "Why don't you go down to the armoury now and ask the armourer to fit you for a breast plate and shield. We can begin training tomorrow."

"Very good my L.. Ser." Pod bowed happily and trotted out of the room.

Jorah smiled to himself. Trust Tyrion to arrange for someone to keep an eye on him. He didn't need a squire, but the boy had seemed so disappointed when he had refused him. He doubted Podrick's enthusiasm would last but if it kept Tyrion from nagging at him for a while, Jorah would teach the boy the basics.


	4. Chapter 4

As he expected the Council meeting dragged on and on, Jorah had tuned out after the first hour of debate on what to do about the remainder of the Greyjoy fleet. Any suggestions he had made where dismissed by others on the Council, so he sat back and watched the members of the council argue. He looked over at the Queens Hand, who tipped his goblet to him in a mock salute.

Jorah nodded in response to his friend. It still amazed him how much wine such a small fellow could consume. Jorah himself rarely drank wine, preferring ale, but even then, he rarely drank, preferring to keep his wits about him. At least if he had been drinking it would explain his inability to decipher fact from fiction about Allyse.

When he finally returned to his chambers later in the day, there was a visitor waiting for him.

"Jorah." She said as she got up from his desk and crossed the room to greet him.

Jorah gave her a half-smile.

"What is wrong?" She asked concerned about his lack of welcome. "Are you angry with me?"

"No, no! I... " He shook his head, turning away slightly and scratching at his ear, when he found himself blushing.

"My love, tell me!" She insisted. When he did not respond she reached out and took his hand. "I'm sorry I left you last night, I know I should have left you a note but I thought I would be back before you woke. But you were gone when I returned."

"Where did you go?" Was all he could think to ask. The feeling of relief that flooded through him cooled his reddened cheeks.

"I realised that we had not asked the septon to remain silent about our marriage. I wanted the Queen to hear our news from us rather than her Master of Secrets." She explained.

For a moment he just looked at her, still reeling at the knowledge that he hadn't dreamt the whole thing.

"What did you have to do to get the septon to keep quiet?"

"Even septons have vices, some they would prefer were known and others not so."

"You're blackmailing him?" Jorah was shocked.

"No I paid him off!" She defended with a grin. "Forty gold pieces to keep his mouth shut!"

"Forty!" Jorah exclaimed, shocked at the amount.

She gave a dismissive shrug.

"So you do not wish to dissolve our union?" He had realised that part of his discomfort during the day had been the thought that the intimacy they had shared was not real.

"Dissolve our union? Is that what you thought?" She looked shocked at his question.

"When I woke and you were gone..."

"I have no desire to be parted from you." She took his other hand in hers. "In fact I am looking forward to being introduced us as Lord and Lady Mormont at tonight's ball." She laughed.

"I am not a Lord." He corrected her. He was no longer the Lord of Bear Island, just a knight, whose position was elevated by the Queens favour.

"Our marriage has made you the Lord of Arbor." She smiled at him.

"Oh!" Their union had been so sudden that Jorah had not thought about titles. He was still coming to terms with that fact that he had again married on a whim.

"I think the title suits you well. Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord of the Arbor!"

"I doubt many others will find it so." Jorah knew that the other members of the Queens Council resented his seat at their table, and that they generally considered him to be unworthy of the position and that some had even petitioned Danerys to have him executed as a traitor.

"Well I find you very impressive my Lord." She brushed at the black doublet with its three headed dragon embroidered in red silk that he wore as the commander of the army, smoothing it across his chest. "And very handsome."

"You'd be the only one to think that!" He pointed out. As a younger man he had had his share of female attention, but now, older, greyer, balding and branded, he could not see how any woman would find him 'handsome'.

"You would be surprised!" She told him. True, he might not be as pretty as some of the young men around the keep, but even with the brand on his cheek Allyse thought he was quite handsome. He had the kindest blue eyes she had ever seen, and his smile, when he offered it, made her heart flutter. Even for a slightly older man he was strong and fit. Looks aside, she had come to know Jorah as a kind man, a good man.

Allyse had heard other women at court whispering about how attractive they thought Ser Jorah was. Some, she knew, only found him so because of his close ties to the Queen and others found the demon brand exciting. In all honesty she could not pinpoint exactly what it was that drew her to him. Perhaps it was that hint of steel in him that she liked, the sense that he was not some pampered fop, but a real man.

"I have to tell you that I am a jealous woman, Jorah. There is only one lady I will share you with, and even she had better keep her royal hands to herself!" She poked him playfully in the chest, eliciting a throaty chuckle from him.

"Speaking of the Queen, we must tell her." He told her.

"Perhaps a little later." She suggested and pulled his head down so she could kiss him. "Right now I believe I need to apologise a little better for leaving you last night!"

Despite his doubts about their relationship and union, Jorah could not deny her. He might not have know if he was in love but the whirlwind of emotions he had felt at the thought that their marriage and relationship may have been a dream had shocked him. Had he been so fixated on Danerys that he had been surprised to find that other women did want him, were she did not? Jorah could not deny that he enjoyed Allyse's company, nor could he deny that he wanted what she was offering him so badly it almost hurt.

"Jorah?" He blinked at the sound of his name.

"Sorry!" He apologised and drew her tight against him.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked quietly.

He shook his head and silenced her with a kiss. How did a man put into words his dreams of a loving marriage, of children, of grandchildren? He had promised Allyse faithfulness, love, and honour and Jorah was going to make damn sure he fulfilled those promises and more. He promised himself that he would never again do anything to hurt those that depended on him.


End file.
